


Veils lifted

by Vicwic



Series: Teen Wolf Remix [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: FBI Intern Stiles Stilinski, Fix-It, M/M, Mentioned Lydia Martin, No Sex, One-Sided Attraction, POV Outsider, Pre-Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Pre-Relationship, Season/Series 06, Sexual Tension, mentioned lydia martin/stiles stilinski - Freeform, pre-Sterek - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 11:57:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12770589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vicwic/pseuds/Vicwic
Summary: What happened at Quantico and beyond, after Stiles saw Derek on That Video in Episode 11 S6 and heard he was a wanted man. Also what really happened on the SWAT raid...Still from the point of view of Ruben; it'll make more sense if Part 1 is read first.(this a continuation of me trying to make sense of Season 6 Teen Wolf and making it how I want it to be)





	Veils lifted

After the video incident, Stiles began to talk to Ruben about Derek. He talked and he talked; remembering him, ruminating over him, wondering what he might be doing. Half the time he talked as if Ruben wasn’t even there. Ruben listened and tried to piece together a picture of the man, but it was difficult. All the time there was that same feeling he often got when Stiles spoke of his past, of secrecy, of events hidden and subjects dodged; of tragedy and darkness. It continued to hold and tantalize Ruben. That along with Stiles’ particular beauty he had to admit.

“He’s in trouble,” said Stiles pacing as Ruben watched him, and Aria sat oiling her hair, untied; combing it through with a large wide-toothed comb. The oil she used had a faint sweet almond scent that sometimes hung around her in a pleasant way. “I need to help him. I need to go to him.”

Derek of course; Ruben and Aria exchanged glances. Ruben had borne the brunt of Stiles over the last few days, but Aria had been there too from time to time. Aria had said she thought that Stiles might do something stupid and they’d quietly discussed him. 

“You don’t know where he is. You’re guessing,” said Ruben.

Stiles wasn’t listening. He continued to pace, up and down, up and down, biting at his thumb. “He’s in North Carolina still I’m sure. If I get there before any SWAT team...”

This was nonsense. “Can’t you call Beacon Hills? Perhaps they could help? He might have-” began Aria.

“No,” snapped Stiles. “They couldn’t. He left.”

Aria sighed. “Why don’t you tell them here that you know him? They might take you. To help negotiate. A peaceful solution and all that.”

Stiles stopped pacing and looked at her.

“It could work,” said Ruben. “And it would stop you haring off on your own to goodness knows where getting caught up in some sort of mess and getting thrown off the course.”

Stiles stood in thought, moistening his lips. Ruben watched and shifted as Stiles’ tongue flittered between them.

“I can do that I think,” Stiles said slowly; eventually. “All I need to do is speak to Derek and speak to them. Get them to talk to him. I can prove he’s innocent.  Not guilty. That they’ve got it all wrong. ”

He wasn’t seeing either Ruben or Aria now; his gaze directed inwards, his arms tightly folded across his chest.

“Go speak to them now,” urged Aria. “They won’t have gone home yet.”

Stiles blinked and became aware of them again. He closed his eyes briefly, nodded and left the room.

“I have no idea what is going on,” stated Aria when he’d gone. “What the hell is Stiles mixed up in? He’s like an iceberg; just a bit of him peeping above the surface while below it’s all submerged and dangerous.”

“It’s all to do with Beacon Hills,” said Ruben. “It’s all back there.”

“But he only talks about Derek. He’s prepared to throw everything away for him. He has no doubt.” Aria frowned. “We know so little. I thought he had a girlfriend in Beacon Hills. “

Ruben shrugged, trying to appear disinterested. “He has, but he hasn’t mentioned her once. As I remember.”

“So to you neither.” Aria twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “It’s a weird relationship.  I’m not sure it is one. Most long-distance ones I know are full of Skype calls, texts, and mutual pining. Think of Oliver and Lucy. Painful.” She paused. “I’ve noticed you looking.”

“I got signals,” said Ruben. “Before Derek.”

“Ah,” said Aria. She scrutinized him for a moment. “There is a similarity. He has a type.”

“It’d have been messy,” said Ruben.

“But worth it perhaps,” said Aria. “To discover his secrets, delve into his depths. Deep, dark and dangerous to know.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“It’s academic now I think,” said Ruben.

 

Ruben wasn’t sure whether he was surprised or not, but Stiles managed it; to talk the FBI into taking him along.

“I’m an old friend,” Stiles had said. “Derek will listen to me. He trusts me.”

Stiles’ posited mission caused excitement and a certain amount of envy amongst the course cohort. Stiles became a figure of interest.  Ruben watched Stiles handle it. He laughed and spoke with apparent confidence to his audience, wearing a new mask Ruben thought, shrugging off the potential danger and saying little about how he knew Derek or how important he felt his task. Whenever the conversation came close to revealing some fact or other too personal he would quip and deflect, playing the joker. But Ruben saw the tension in his shoulders. A couple of times Ruben dared give a shoulder massage, but he felt a sense of opportunities lost and moments passed by while he did so, and it made him wistful and unsure of his motives so he stopped.

 

As Stiles got into the black minibus with darkened windows to leave, Ruben and Aria saw him off.

“Keep us posted,” said Aria.

“I will,” promised Stiles, clutching onto his FBI issue rucksack and getting himself seated; looking at them out of the open side door.

“Good luck,” said Ruben standing by. He took a breath. “You go save your man.”

Stiles opened his mouth, about to say something in response, but before he could an agent passed in front and in a single motion, slid the door shut between them, cutting them off and hiding Stiles from view.

Aria moved up beside Ruben and took his arm, squeezing it.

“You’re a good person,” she whispered in his ear.

Ruben gave a rueful smile and shook his head. “It would have been a mess,” he said once more.

 

                                                                                *******

 

The phone call came a few days later. Ruben, Aria, and Oliver were sitting in one of the study areas. Oliver was texting Lucy, a textbook to one side. Ruben and Aria were playing cards.

Stiles and Derek were on their way to Beacon Hills. “We’re in Virginia now. Me and Derek. We left North Carolina,” On the phone, Stiles sounded excited.

“What,” said Ruben, “you’re in Virginia?”

“We’re needed there,” said Stiles. “Derek’s going.  I’m going too.”

“You’re needed where? In Beacon Hills? Both of you? What happened?” Ruben was trying to follow.

“He was in North Carolina. I’m fine. I was shot. But don’t worry. “

“You were shot!” Aria and Oliver looked up and stared at him. Oliver said something that Ruben couldn’t make out with Stiles shouting in his ear.

“Yes but it’s not a problem.  I’ve got to go now.”

How could being shot not be a problem? “Are you coming back here? The course?” Ruben was confused and alarmed now.

“It’s nothing. I’ll work something out. It’ll be okay.”

Stiles hung up.  

 

Ruben, Aria and Oliver sat and looked at each other.

“He’ll get thrown off,” said Aria. “He’s gone AWOL.”

Ruben stood up. “I’m going to Beacon Hills too, “he said. “I’ve had enough. I need to find out what’s going on. I’ll take leave.”

“Calm down,” said Oliver. “And he still won’t sleep with you.”

“That ship sailed long ago,” said Aria.

Ruben’s phone rang again. He glanced at it. It was Stiles, calling back. Ruben grabbed it.

“Stiles!” he said.

An unfamiliar voice replied. “No Derek.”

“Oh.” Briefly, Ruben was knocked off kilter and fell silent. Derek’s voice wasn’t as deep as he’d imagined it might be though he wasn’t sure what he’d thought it’d sound like.

“Ruben. You’ve just been speaking to Stiles.” It wasn’t a question. Ruben mouthed “It’s Derek” towards Aria and Oliver. Aria opened her eyes wide.

“I need to be quick,” Derek continued. “I want you to talk to him. Get him to a hospital. Get him to go back to Quantico. Finish his course. I can’t leave him. He’s hurt but he’ll follow me. Make him go to the police. He can tell them anything. He can tell them I forced him, kidnapped him, whatever it takes…”

Ruben didn’t bother lowering his voice.

“I think they’re in a mess,” he said to Aria. Aria rolled her eyes. Oliver started pointedly reading his book and not paying attention.

“Get him to say exactly what’s happened,” she said.

“Tell me exactly what’s going on,” Ruben repeated to Derek. “Stiles said he was shot. “

“His foot,” said Derek. “I’ve bandaged it, but he can’t walk far. I need to get to Beacon Hills but not with Stiles. I want him safe, but he’s not listening to me.”

For a moment, Ruben saw himself crouched down while Stiles grasped at him for help, looking up; all amber-eyed, his perfect mouth slightly open, lips moist and tempting. He dismissed the image with a shake of his head, the time for that had gone but there could still be an opportunity for answers. Ruben felt an idea form.

“You’re in Virginia,” he said slowly, thinking. “Where exactly?”

“We’re close to somewhere called Roanoke.”

“Roanoke,” Ruben said to Aria who immediately started googling on her phone.

“Just under four hours,” she said. She guessed where his mind was going.

“I’m coming to you,” said Ruben to Derek. Aria raised her eyebrows pointedly.

“We’re coming to you,” corrected Ruben. “We’ll talk to him. Me and Aria. We’ll be there by midnight.”

Derek barely paused. “Thank god. I’ll text you the address,” he said and rang off.

“You’re both crazy,” said Oliver throwing his book aside. “You know what’ll happen. It’ll be three students thrown off, not just one. And they’ll be pissed. They’ll be losing 75% of their minority intake for the year in a single sweep with you two gone.”

“Hah,” said Aria and then flew into motion, grabbing her bag and racing to her room to get what she needed for the journey.

“No,” said Ruben. “We can get there and be back by lunch tomorrow. If anyone asks we’ve food poisoning.”

Oliver shrugged. “Okay. Whatever. I’ll cover as much I can if it’s needed.”

“Thanks,” said Ruben.

Barely an hour later, Ruben was reversing out of the student car park in his car. Aria was in the passenger seat squinting at her phone, as she worked out the route to Roanoke.

 

They arrived just after midnight, pulling up outside what looked like a row of holiday shacks lit bright in the moonlight. As Ruben turned off the engine a man emerged from one at the far end and approached the car. Ruben got out. He was aware of Aria opening the door on the other side, but he kept his eyes on the approaching figure who he guessed must be Derek. In turn, Derek was looking at him as he neared. He moved with a heavy grace, Ruben could tell he was powerfully muscled as in the video, strong. His hair seemed darker, and he had a thick five o’clock shadow. Ruben found himself, without thinking, rubbing at his own chin. He had the sort of looks that grabbed attention undiminished by being seen in the flesh. Under other circumstances, Ruben would have been drawn.

Derek came to a stop. He nodded at the two of them. “Thank you for coming,” he said gravely.

“Derek!” A yell came from inside the hut. “Derek!” The yell was repeated. Stiles.

Derek rolled his eyes. He beckoned at Ruben and Aria and then turned back towards the cabin. Ruben and Aria followed, Aria clutching at her bag which she’d packed with snacks and a First Aid kit with bandages in case they were needed for Stiles.

The cabin comprised one main room. There was a door leading off which Ruben surmised led to a bathroom. He noticed immediately that there was only one bed, a large double in the center of the room. In the bed, Stiles was tucked up, mouth open, staring at them.

“Your friends are here to speak with you,” said Derek and stepped aside gesturing at Ruben and Aria.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Derek Hale,” he declared loudly and firmly. “If you think you are going to stop me going back to Beacon Hills with you by bringing in my friends, you have another think coming. I am not staying here for this.” He started to scramble out of the bed. Ruben couldn’t work out where he thought he was going. He wasn’t dressed for outside.

“Stiles, stay in bed,” said Derek diving towards him and trying to push him back under the covers. A frantic and rather undignified tussle began.

“Unhand me,” said Stiles dramatically.

Ruben heard Aria stifle a giggle. He decided to try and assert some control. “Stiles,” he said stepping forwards. “Stop this. Are you hurt? You said you’d been shot.”

Stiles stopped struggling and wiggled away from Derek. “I’m fine,” he said; part flinging the bedcovers to one side to reveal one long leanly muscled bare leg. “See.”

Ruben had a sudden heated flash of himself running a hand firmly up it, his fingers playing under the edge of the black boxer briefs Stiles was wearing, his palm resting on Stiles’ thigh. A sudden movement from Derek, who’d moved back, made him look up. Derek was glaring at him as if he could guess the inappropriate thoughts passing through Ruben’s mind. Ashamed, Ruben put his attention on Stiles’ foot which Stiles was wriggling at him. There was a badly wrapped cloth around his toes.

 “Let me look.” Ruben unwrapped the cloth carefully and signaled to Aria to pass the bandages she had in her bag along with disinfectant, water, and a cloth. Stiles’ foot had obviously been cleaned up but the binding hadn’t been tight enough, and it had bled again. His little toe was a mess, but it could’ve been due to shrapnel damage as much as a bullet. Ruben touched it gently. Stiles whimpered. It was less fine than he made out. Beyond him, Derek moved. He moved so fast it was almost inhuman. One moment he was standing glowering, the next he was beside Ruben, his hand resting on Stiles’ bare thigh. Ruben couldn’t help but note the intimacy. He carefully cleaned Stiles’ foot again and tightly bound it.

“Keep it clean, keep it tight,” he said to Derek.

“My toe,” said Stiles faintly, “It is still there?”

“It’s there,” said Ruben reassuringly, “But it won’t be the same I’m afraid.”

“It’ll still be beautiful in its own way though, don’t worry,” said Aria who had been watching over Ruben’s shoulder. He saw her noticing where Derek’s hand still lay. “So how did you get shot? You still haven’t said.”

Stiles pouted and then lay back and looked at the ceiling. “They tracked Derek down and cornered him. I was telling the SWAT team that he was an investigative journalist writing an article on this um… private army and all they needed to do was speak to him.” Stiles raised himself up again and looked at Derek accusingly, “You could have been more convincing when you said you were on a story.”

“Come on,” said Derek, “You’d had hours to work something out. I had a few seconds warning when I heard you coming up with it.”

Stiles shook his head. “Anyway. They told him to take off his jacket with everything in and step forward. He did because I was there. But as he moved I think one of the hun...I mean army people took a shot at him. Then all hell broke out.” Stiles paused. “There were bullets everywhere. It was crazy; I didn’t know what to do. I got hit. Then Derek came and saved me.”

“I didn’t,” said Derek.

“You did,” said Stiles. His voice took on a slightly rough edge. “I was scared. You came to me flying, Derek; out of nowhere. You covered me with your body to protect me from the shooting. You lay on me, right on top.”

He stopped. Each avoided the other’s eyes. There was a silence. Derek’s hand gave a squeeze, and Stiles seemed to notice it on his leg for the first time. He shifted and Derek seemed to notice in turn. He slowly removed it.

“Then you took me,” Stiles continued. “You ran.”

“I couldn’t think,” said Derek. “You were hurt and bleeding and frightened. I could smell your blood and your fear. I had to get you away safe.”

“Safe could have been just down the road,” said Stiles. “It didn’t have to be the next state.” Despite the slightly accusatory nature of his words, the tone of his voice was mild.

Derek shrugged. Stiles looked at him, his eyes ranging over Derek’s face. Derek looked away. Secrets, thought Ruben, watching them, but together how well they fitted. There was looseness to Stiles with Derek; in the way he spoke and moved, the easy way he fired remarks and gibes at Derek which Derek batted back unruffled with an understated fondness Ruben could sense.

“Hang on,” said Aria interrupting suddenly. “How did you get here from wherever you were? There’s no car outside. “

Stiles and Derek looked at her then at each other. True, thought Ruben. From what they’d just said, it sounded like Derek had run; with Stiles. Ruben looked closely at Derek.

“Er...” said Stiles running his tongue over his lower lip.

“I don’t need one,” said Derek, not quite answering her question. “But Stiles,” Derek’s gaze intensified, “it’s time. Listen to your friends. Go back to college. Now. Say I took you.”

“Oh right, then bang goes our innocent journalist story and hello to kidnapper of FBI interns, Derek. That is so not a good look,” retorted Stiles. He lifted his chin. “And I told you. I’m going to Beacon Hills with you. I don’t care about the course. I’ll sort it out. I’m not leaving you, Derek.”

“Tell him, please.” Derek looked at Ruben and Aria desperately.

“If he’s made his mind up, we’re not going to dissuade him,” Aria said mildly. She took a glance at Ruben and then stepped forward. “But can you please tell us this. What on earth is going on? There are things that don’t add up here.” She put her hands on her hips. “What have you got yourself involved in Stilinski, and who are you, Derek Hale?”

Both of them looked at her. “I think we need to discuss this first before we say anything,” said Stiles. “Me and Derek. In private.”

“Where...?”  said Derek sounding helpless looking about the room. “Here?”

“Outside,” said Stiles flapping his arm at him. “In private means away from the people we’re being private from!”

Derek sighed heavily. “Okay,” he said, “and I haven’t finished,” and then, with no effort shown, bent and scooped Stiles up and carried him outside.

Ruben and Aria exchanged glances.

“Boy, he’s strong as well as hot as fu-“ Aria began.

“Was Derek saying he ran all the way from North Carolina?” asked Ruben at the same time. “And I think something’s going on between those two.”

They watched in the doorway as Derek stood in the moonlight, still carrying Stiles as Stiles talked at him, arms waving and fingers pointing.

“But what about Lydia?” Aria said to Ruben in a low voice. “He’s dating her.”

It was extraordinary. Derek, his posture previously relaxed, suddenly stiffened, and he seemed to almost drop Stiles who grabbed at him. The conversation which had been largely Stiles became between the two of them.  Derek turned and started to head quickly back to the cabin. They could hear what Stiles was saying now, his voice sounded pleading. “Yes, Lydia but let me explain,” he was saying.

“How...?” breathed Aria, “But I swear I was whispering...”

“It was all a terrible misunderstanding,” Stiles was continuing. “I’d grown past her. I had. But I was being forgotten, erased. I wanted her to remember me, to remember our past, that I loved her and I did, I do, but as a BFF, as my sister from another mister.” He flung an arm out. “I was about to go on to say that, I thought she knew; when the Hunt grabbed me. Then I came back and Lydia had only heard the first part and was emotional and she kissed me and I thought ‘oh, maybe I’m wrong and I want this,’ and we went on a date, and we made out and it didn’t feel right, like kissing Scott, and we went on a couple more dates, and I said I needed to take it slow, and she said fine and then the internship started and I left.” He barely took a breath.

“But you never mentioned anything. “ Derek was standing, still holding Stiles, breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry.” Stiles looked miserable. “I should have done. But it didn’t seem real.  It wasn’t. I don’t want to date her. Derek, I don’t want to date Lydia.” Seemingly without thinking, Stiles was reaching up to let his fingers graze along the edge of Derek’s jaw. “It’s awkward. I didn’t want to hurt her. I don’t want to hurt her. I’m not sure what to do. Maybe I should just pretend when I get back and finish it when it’s all over.”

“For goodness sake,” muttered Aria leaving the hut and marching towards them. Ruben followed.

“You cannot pretend,” she said fiercely reaching them and unconcerned about interrupting. “Are you going to pretend to kiss her? If you have made a mistake you need to tell her, Stiles.”

“I can’t,” Stiles moaned at her from Derek’s arms still. He thudded his head back against Derek’s chest. “You can’t descend in the midst of some sort of Armageddon - or whatever it is and blood on walls makes it sound bad, Derek - and break up with someone right in the middle. It might distract them. They might die! I can play it cool until I get a chance to tell her. I respect her. I’m not a Jackson.” He groaned, “It’s bad because I’m honestly looking forward to seeing her, to seeing them all, again. And why didn’t they let me know it was happening?”

“I imagine because they knew you’d do this, what you’re doing now,” said Derek. He was almost cradling Stiles now. His breathing had calmed. Stiles’ touch had lingered.

Ruben spoke. He was still trying to work things out. Armageddon, dying and bloody walls, Stiles wasn’t bothered about obfuscating now. Ruben felt the answers were a finger’s breadth away; time to make an ultimatum.

“Look,” he said. “You have no car. The implication is Derek carried you. He is abnormally strong, but how he could carry you that far? You talk about very bad things happening in Beacon Hills. They don’t sound normal bad and they frighten you, Stiles. I think you’re hiding something big. You know what. Me and Aria, if you don’t tell us what’s going on, we’re both going to get into my car and drive to Beacon Hills ourselves now or whenever and find out. You’re both welcome to come with us if you want.” Ruben folded his arms and stared at them; impassive cop style.

“Nice,” said Stiles. He sounded impressed.

Aria folded her arms as well and looked resolute, backing Ruben up.

Stiles tilted his head and thought for a couple of beats. “Do you believe in the supernatural?” he asked.

“No,” said Ruben.

“It exists,” said Stiles, he made an expansive gesture with an arm towards Ruben who stared back at him lying bridal-style and slightly ridiculous in Derek’s arms. Derek shifted him up a little. Stiles settled back in tight against Derek’s body.

“The army people that Derek was tracking are Hunters, “Stiles continued. “They hunt the supernatural. Some supernaturals are good, others are bad. We fight the bad ones, and we fight the bad hunters. We think bad hunters are attacking Beacon Hills to kill our friends. Derek is a supernatural. He is super strong and can hear and listen and smell better than us. He is a werewolf. Look.”

Nothing happened.

“Look,” Stiles said again with more emphasis, tapping Derek’s arm. “This is your bit now. You’re on.”

Derek blinked; he was starting to look a little blissed out as he held Stiles close in his arms, but as Ruben watched he started to change. His features became heavy, almost monstrous, hair grew on his face and his eyes glowed blue. Elongated fangs appeared in his mouth and he growled. Ruben could see his fingernails turn into claws.

“Oh my god,” said Aria.

Derek shifted back.

“Proof. That is Beacon Hills summed up and now we must go. Our friends need us,” Stiles said portentously. “Any questions, please ask inside.” He gave an imperious wave of his hand, “Take me back in the house, Derek,” he demanded.

“Stiles, I never knew you were such a diva,” murmured Aria. “You’ve dodged a bullet there, Ruben.”

She was whispering but neither, now, was surprised when they saw Derek look round at her, as he carried Stiles back inside. Ruben thought he smiled.

They were left to absorb the enormity of what Stiles had just told them. Aria was remarkably unperturbed overall.  She regretted her initial shock which she now felt was rude. “I reckon it’s a genetic disorder, “she said. “Do you know there's one where you’re covered in hair? Perhaps that’d count as ‘supernatural.’ Personally, I don’t care as long as angels don’t exist because I’d hate my gran to tell me ‘Told you so.’”

Ruben focussed on Stiles. If Stiles was good with it, if Stiles was okay with Derek, then Ruben was; whatever ‘it’ was, that he’d leave till another time.

 

Sitting on the bed later, after many questions and much discussion, they all debated what to do next. Derek had accepted that he wouldn’t be getting rid of Stiles. Stiles would take the repercussions as they came. The two of them sat and bickered amicably, Stiles leaning comfortably against Derek’s side, his head nudged under Derek’s chin and playing with the edge of Derek’s tee-shirt. Every so often his fingers skimmed over Derek’s bare skin. From time to time, Derek would lower his head and his lips would brush the softness of Stiles’ hair. Ruben felt a slight pang watching but then some battles are lost before they’re even begun, he understood that.

Ruben kept sneaking glances at Derek as Derek spoke, slowly adjusting as his worldview shifted.  The normality of the scene and watching how relaxed both Stiles and Derek were reassured him. He had agreed to let them borrow his car to drive to Beacon Hills; flying was considered too risky in case either Derek or Stiles were being looked for. Both had lost their driving licenses; they hoped they’d not be stopped. They didn’t have money either as Stiles had lost his wallet in the gun battle and Derek’s had been in his jacket. Stiles’ bag had been left behind as well, making him sulk. “I’d specially bought some of those chamomile honey and vanilla teabags you drink, Derek because I knew you wouldn’t be able to get any on the run and they’re your favorite,” he complained at him.

 “I didn’t know you’d noticed I liked those,” said Derek with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Dumbass,” said Stiles.

They decided that in the morning, Derek would drive into town, Ruben and Aria would take out some money for them from an ATM and then be dropped at a car rental to drive back to Quantico.

Stiles promised Ruben that he’d leave his car at Stiles’ house. “I can pick up my Jeep from Scott’s,” he said. “Don’t worry; we won’t get your car smashed up by anything.”

At the car rental, Ruben and Aria watched as Derek got Stiles comfortable on the back seat of Ruben’s car. He had taken bedding from the cabin. Stiles was now wrapped up in a blanket and lying regally on cushions surrounded by snacks and reading material bought from a nearby garage. Derek quietly fussed around him as Stiles solemnly watched, his eyes not leaving him for a moment.

As the car drove carefully away, Aria, tucked her arm into Ruben’s. “I don’t reckon they are now but if they’re not banging by the time they reach Beacon Hills, it’ll only be a matter of time,” she stated, “Lydia be damned and I wouldn’t be surprised if she felt the same as our Stiles. I note she hasn’t rushed to contact him either.”

Ruben sighed. Aria glanced sideways at him. “Win some lose some.” She patted his hand. “All we can do is wish them luck and maybe even someday join them in their crazy war. I’ll drive.”

Ruben nodded, and they turned and headed back towards the car hire office.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I thought there might be some smut in this but it became clear as I went on that Stiles and Derek weren't there yet and even if they were Ruben and Aria aren't that intrusive, quite.
> 
> Anyhow, there'll just be an epilogue now; set about 2 years in the future. Maybe there'll be nookie in that. I hope to get that up a bit quicker than this one.
> 
> By the way I now have a tumblr account at [craftydelusioncheesecake](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/craftydelusioncheesecake)


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